


Where love lies, madness follows

by Prusse



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: (I guess it's because they're assassins), (Really dubious methods of comfort though), Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Canon, Set up pre-series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prusse/pseuds/Prusse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a mission gone wrong, Killua learns that being brought up as a proud Zoldyck didn't prepare him to all forms of torture.</p><p>But it's okay. Big brother will always be there to catch Killua in his fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where love lies, madness follows

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo!  
> This is my first fanfic for HxH. I started the anime again recently, and after reading many stories, decided to post my own.  
> I just wanted Killua to suffer and Illumi to be a creep. Sooo, yep, just wrote it because I was bored in the train...  
> I hope it isn't too crappy though, and that you'll enjoy it nonetheless :)
> 
> CONCERNING THE SETTING
> 
> Killua still lives in the Zoldyck manor, and is still going on missions, by himself or with Illumi.  
> He's unaware of Nen abilities, and arrogant enough to think that being brought up as an assassin = being stronger than anyone else.

It was an unexpected variant that Killua never took into account. And why would he? He was an elite assassin, he had bathed into torture since birth, nothing should be able to phase him. And yet...

He feared his heart would beat out of his chest by how fast it was going, and he stiffled a whimper -- for God's sake, a whimper! He was truly pathetic. Ha, he made one fine heir! What would his parents say if they knew how affected he allowed himself to be? And let's not talk about Illumi -- the creep would surely taunt him into an early grave! And--

Killua was jostled, and he scraped his chin against the floor, teeth clicking roughly. He could taste iron on the tip of his tongue.

' _Remember the rules, Killua, come on buddy... First rule: never show your weaknesses. You can do it... COME ON!...'_

A sob tore out of his throat at a brutal push, and sticky trails were running down his quivering thighs -- blood or something else, he couldn't tell. He hoped it was the former. He didn't want to think about that pig marking him any further than he already did.

A puff of hot breath brushed against his damp nape as the body above his rocked even roughlier. "Aaah, what a cute little sound...! I still can't decide if I want you screaming like a whore or... ah, quiet like a scared puppy!"

Killua didn't answer, gritting his teeth. ' _Never show your weaknesses... Never show your weaknesses..._ ' He bit harder onto his bottom lip, tasting blood on the raw flesh. _'I won't make a sound. I won't. I won't give him that pleasure.'_

His hands weakly clawed at the ground, tremors running up his broken arms at each new attempt to move. He preferred that pain -- this one was familiar; this one he could deal with; he knew how -- to the one searing from his backside, as if he was split open on a hot steel rod. He idly wondered why he was never told of that kind of torture, as his pain endurance training was supposed to be complete. Maybe that man should offer his counsel to the Zoldycks, as they clearly weren't aware of how outdated they were in their practices.

' _I can do it... I'm not weak. I can do it.'_

Even with that bastard plowing into him, and grunting his appreciation with each new thrust, Killua was still unable to stop thinking about where he failed, trying to analyse the data. One moment he was following his oblivious prey, the next one, he was on the ground of a seedy backalley, arms unusable and body utterly unresponsive to his commands. He never felt so helpless, so vulnerable -- so much that he actually wished _Illumi_ was there.

Killua didn't know what was worse: the violation of his unwilling, young body, or the humiliation of knowing he could break that man's neck but being unable to do shit.

He won't ever forget nor forgive.

The second his body will recover from whatever spell it was put under -- it had to be magic, otherwise, it would mean that he wasn't all that immune to poisons (for what but poison could paralyse him like that?) and he highly doubt his mother would be happy to hear that -- Killua Zoldyck was going to murder that pig of a Hunter -- he knew he was one, the bastard kept reminding him of the fact, proud of his catch.

' _Never show your weaknesses. Don't make a sound. Wait. Wait. Wait... wait... wait.'_

_'I can do it.'_

_'I'm not weak.'_

 

 

Illumi looked at his phone, slightly annoyed. Killua was taking way too long for a simple recognition mission.

The eldest Zoldyck son sighed, tucking the phone away and reclining on his seat, idly turning a needle between his long fingers. Sometimes, he wondered why tiny, unresponsible Killua was chosen to be the future head of the family. Clearly, if the boy couldn't even respect the minute details of their shared mission, a reminder on discipline would be needed. It wasn't as if he enjoyed harming the kid, or being the bearer of bad news to his constantly worried mother! But they were elite assassins, and the chaos Killua kept creating was a hindrance they could do without.

After another few restless moments, Illumi stood up, stretched, and decided to go look up for his wayward brother. He won't ever admit it, but the increasing lateness was bugging at him -- better be safe than sorry, anyway. With that last thought in mind, he went out, already preparing to teach Killua a new lesson on ponctuality.

What he found...

Wasn't anything close to what he expected. It never even crossed his mind, to be honest. Because they were Zoldycks, and nobody could've _dared_ sully them in such a way. Nobody should've been _able_ to, really.

Slowly, he went down to a crouch, hand hovering over a slim shoulder. Illumi felt completely detached from his own body, and couldn't really register what was laid in front of his eyes. When his fingers finally grazed chilly skin, he almost recoiled -- because Killua was never supposed to be like this, Killua was always warm where Illumi had always been cold. He took in the bruises blossoming in ugly blues and dark purples on the small hips and back, marring the once milky white skin. His brother's eyes were half closed, but dull, as if no soul was left behind the delicate lids. If it wasn't for the butterfly-like pulse in the dip of the slender neck, Illumi would've thought a corpse was in front of him.

"Killua..." he whispered in a voice sounding distant even to his own ears.

The boy gave no reaction.

"Killua." Illumi's voice was clearer, almost as cool as usual if it wasn't for the slight waver on the last syllable, making it sound as if he was about to choke on the name. This time, the eyes turned towards him, the fog lifting and leaving two clear chips of sky, only for mist to take over when the boy croaked, "Aniki?"

The voice broke in the middle, and at the same time, tears rolled down the round cheeks. No sound ever left his torn lips as his shoulders shook violently and Illumi took him in his arms, deftly engulfing the young boy in a cocoon of darkness. It had been years since he touched his brother with no intention to inflict pain.

It had been even longer since he last saw him cry.

Gently, he stood up, Killua cradled against his chest. He calculated the quickest way to go back home. He would give chase later to the mongrel who dared touching his brother under his watch.

No one but Zoldycks had the right to draw blood out of Killua.

And no one, not even Illumi, should be able to make him cry. Killua was stronger than that, after all.

At least he thought they made sure of it.

 

 

Amidst the strident screams of their distraught mother followed by constant smashing noises of broken pots and artefacts, Killua stayed silent. The tears had long dried, but the once bright blue eyes were now a stormy grey. He felt humiliated -- ashamed of not being able to fight back. What was the use of all the painful training he endured if he couldn't even prevent some filth to touch him in such inappropriate ways? He would've rather died than suffer through the knowledge of being a failure.

He stayed confined in his room, not wanting to see or speak to anyone. Illumi was the only one daring to disrupt his haven, as even his mother couldn't trespass without encouring the risk of getting a dagger in the throat.

"Come on, Killua," Illumi said to his brother's back, sitting on the edge of the bed. And Killua didn't say it, but it felt good to be so close to someone who saw him at his lowest -- there was no pity in his voice, no judgement. Just plain understanding and a quiet, seething anger boiling beneath the fair skin and black eyes. He never knew his brother was capable of feeling something else than boredom.

"Talk to me," Illumi asked.

So Killua turned around, blue-grey boring into dark wells. "I want him dead."

Illumi perked up slightly at the nearly silent voice, devoid of emotions. "Kill him."

Illumi nodded, and Killua hissed, "Make him _scream_."

There was light into these lovely gems of eyes. A dangerous glint, asking for blood and revenge. And who was Illumi to deny his perfect, perfect little brother when he'd never been so Zoldyck-like before? So Illumi stood up, brushed snow-white, fluffy hair aside as to look straight at Killua. "If you wish so, Killu. Describe the filth to big brother." And Killua did.

Later that night, the head of a pro Hunter was put with something akin to reverence at the young boy's feet, whose smile as sharp as the ridge of broken glass entranced the older Zoldyck.

It's only months later, when he was made aware by his happily bleeding and sobbing mother that Killua left home to take part in the Hunter exams, that Illumi understood how far he was ready to go as to never let Killua out of his sight again.


End file.
